Geoffrey looked over as the purple-haired woman approached his vantage point, propping herself up on the barrel beside him and began cleaning and trimming her nails with the blade, addressing him with a bit of a smirk as she did so. He thought for a brief moment before responding, unsure of how to go about communicating with her - also taking note of a couple soldiers from both sides that kept looking over with a bit of fear and intrigue.
"Lieutenant Geoffrey - and you are Ms. Lahav, I presume?" He spoke calmly, extending his right hand to her as greeting, the sleeve sliding down, showing the end of the intricately detailed print of ink on his arm.
"You presume correctly! But just call me Kehah." She grinned, giving his hand one firm shake, but keeping her grip. She twisted her arm, causing his to turn over as well, giving her a good look at his tattoos. "Interesting tribals. They're western forest in origin, correct?"
Geoffrey blinked once - he hadn't even noticed his sleeve slide down his arm until Kehah was already twisting it around, only causing the sleeve to move further, revealing more of the gray patterns that bled into actual depictions of animals, people, and flora. He quickly gathered himself, not used to people finding an interest in these more tribal traditions, especially with how quickly they were fading away.
"E-eh, yeah, from my home village - borders the forest. Woods so thick you can't even slip between the trunks if you grow up to be a big guy. This is just the picture of my heritage - I don't have my own ink yet - too young to get my story written," Geoffrey realized he was still holding the woman's hand and flushed a bit, letting go of her and rolling his sleeve back up.
"Heh, sorry - not many people still find these kinds of things interesting."Kehah's smirk returned full force as Geoffrey stammered his explanation, blush firmly on his face as he pulled his hand away. she held her hand out in front of her, examining her nails before going back to work on them with her knife. The tattoos on the lieutenant were reminding her of
Maar'von. The man had helped the most in training her in blades once the mercenaries had taken her in. She tilted her head in the lieutenant's direction once more, eyes remaining on her knife.
"I had a...tutor, that grew up very far west; he may have even been in your village for all I know. He has very similar tattoos, though his life is inked onto his other arm, as well as his chest," She huffed out a laugh. "He has a long life story for a man not even 45 years of age."
Geoffrey smiled, remembering a few of the men that had left his village when he was young to go out on long journeys. A few of them he actually missed - one being his uncle who he hadn't seen in a long time. Now he couldn't help but feel a bit of longing for his home, with such large gray walls surrounding him and the tension that continued to build deep in his stomach.
"It wouldn't surprise me - the western forests are brimming with secrets and stories just waiting to be told. I knew quite a few men from my village that have left when they entered adulthood. It's a part of the tradition, I suppose - I left just barely a year ago, myself, and here I am!" He lifted his arms up, jokingly displaying the scene that they were a part of.
Geoffrey let his arms slump back down and he chuckled a bit.
"Yeah, I'm sure this tattoo will be an interesting one for me, supposing I get out of here alive." He glanced back up at the woman, wondering how she felt about the castle and just what they were up against.
Kehah's sharp eyes snapped to the boy at his last statement, a resolve forming in her. "You'll make it out," She assured, eyes cold. "If anything, you'll be one of the only ones left alive after this ordeal." The knife was then tucked away in her pocket, leather gloves returned to their places on her hands. She hopped off the barrel and stared across the courtyard, eyes on the fat man and servant girl pacing the ground, nose in a book.
"He'll be easier," She began simply. "Too slow to run away, and weighed down by both ego and worldly possessions. The girl though..." a small frown joined her intense gaze, staring a the girl's methodical movements. "She may not seem like much, but those eyes are intelligent, diligent. She seems the type to both help and protect her master; for all we know, she'd be the type to jump in the way of a blade or arrow sent towards him. But, given her perceived status, going after her won't do much to their morale or organization." She huffed, crossing her arms and turning her head so that the other side didn't catch her staring too long. "Actually, most of the noble's are pointless to go after for anything besides practice targets. It's the soldiers we need to worry about..."